


The Last Time You Leave

by Jour



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AKA, Competence Kink, Friends With Benefits, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Jet and Sokka as (very) reluctant bros, Katara keeps shit together, M/M, Palace Guard!Jet no one really knows what he's doing here, Sokka tears the world apart for Zuko, Venom!Sokka, Zuko has feelings and is bad at them, Zuko is kind to animals, being friends with your lover's ex, getting together but also already being together, nonlinear story, what's a light stabbing if not a chance for love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jour/pseuds/Jour
Summary: “You gonna be okay while I’m gone?” he asks as he walks back into the bedroom, pants slung low on his hips and rubbing his hair dry.“Please,” Zuko scoffs, “I’ve survived without you before and I can do it again.”“If you’re referring to your tragic childhood and teenage years then you’re really stretching it on the surviving part.”Zuko laughs. Sokka’s glad that they’ve gotten here, where they can laugh about it. Zuko laughs easier in general these days. And to think, all Sokka had to do was love him. //After Zuko is left teetering on the edge of death, Sokka trades his soul to bring him back.Featuring Venom!Sokka, solid friendships, and getting together, falling apart, and getting back together again.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to have watched the movie Venom, this borrows more from the concept than the plot.

Sokka collapses on top of Zuko with a deep, heartfelt groan. He pants, pressing a long kiss into Zuko’s hair. A bone deep satisfaction creeps through his entire body. 

“Talk about a proper goodbye. If this is what I get every time I leave for a trip I’m going to have to leave more often.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes, still catching his own breath. “Stop acting like you rarely get sex. You get more than enough.” 

Sokka slowly pulls out, making shushing noises and stroking down Zuko’s side when he winces. He shifts so that he’s lying on his side, reaches out to pull Zuko close into his chest. “I will never get enough when it comes to you.” 

Zuko settles a hand on his chest, drawing circles. “When have I ever said no to you?” 

“Oh yeah. You haven’t. You’re pretty easy for me aren’t you?” 

Zuko squawks and jerks up, trying to put Sokka in a headlock. Sokka laughs and drapes his larger form all over him, bracketing him between his forearms. Zuko flails half halfheartedly before settling down. Sokka gazes down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, the messy strands of long hair that stick to his face.

Gods, he’s one lucky bastard. 

He leans down to draw Zuko into a long, lingering kiss. Zuko responds readily, melting into it. They move lazily against each other for a few moments before Zuko pulls away with a soft sound. “You’d better get ready. Katara’s ship is probably docking soon.”

Sokka groans. “Don’t mention my sister when I’m trying to sex you up.” 

“You’ve already sexed me up.”

Sokka’s face turns sly. He reaches between Zuko’s legs and pushes a single finger up and in. Zuko gasps, high and quick, head tilting back. “Yea I have.” 

Zuko trembles against him but still manages to glare and damn if that doesn’t kinda get Sokka going. Bringing a leg up in between them, Zuko firmly pushes Sokka away with a foot to his stomach. “Go get ready, dumbass.”

Sokka grabs his stomach in mock betrayal, looking pained. “How am I supposed to do anything when you’re laying in my bed looking so gorgeous?” 

“If anything, it’s _my_ bed.” 

Sokka swings off the bed, grabbing pants on the way to the washroom. “Nah,” he calls over his shoulder. “You’re mine, so by extension, the bed is mine too.” 

He grins when he doesn’t hear a retort. Zuko never knows how to respond, but Sokka knows he loves getting sweet talked. 

He runs water over himself perfunctorily. The truth is he’s really going to miss Zuko, even though he’s getting to take a trip home with his sister. He’s been living in the Fire Nation Palace for quite awhile now and he and Zuko have been inseparable. 

“You gonna be okay while I’m gone?” he asks as he walks back into the bedroom, pants slung low on his hips and rubbing his hair dry. 

“Please,” Zuko scoffs, “I’ve survived without you before and I can do it again.”

“If you’re referring to your tragic childhood and teenage years then you’re really stretching it on the surviving part.” 

Zuko laughs. Sokka’s glad that they’ve gotten here, where they can laugh about it. Zuko laughs easier in general these days. And to think, all Sokka had to do was love him. 

“I’d be more worried about - “ Zuko cuts himself off as Sokka turns towards him. Sokka lowers the towel from his head so he can look at Zuko questioningly. 

Zuko’s mouth is slightly open, his tongue pushing against his luscious bottom lip. His eyes are hooded, and he runs his gaze up and down Sokka’s body. Oho. Zuko’s always been pretty obvious in his appreciation of Sokka’s physique ever since Sokka shot up at the end of his teenage years and then proceeded to pack on a thick layer of hard muscle while sailing around with his dad’s crew. Finally grew into the body he was destined for, Sokka liked to say. 

He flexes his arms and Zuko’s eyes go dark. Very deliberately, Sokka makes one pec muscle jump. Zuko swallows. With visible effort, he drags his eyes back up to Sokka’s. 

“I know I told you to hurry,” he murmurs. “But…” he trails off and spreads his legs open. Sokka can see the glisten on his thighs from where Sokka’s come has slipped out of him. All of his blood rushes south. 

He leaps for the bed and Zuko welcomes him with open arms. Sokka loses himself to the sensation of Zuko’s hands running over the hard planes of his stomach, back, shoulders, over and over and over again. 

* * *

Cleaned, packed, and finally fully dressed, this time with no distractions, Sokka stands at the door with his bag slung over one shoulder. He pulls Zuko into the circle of his arms and Zuko comes easily, draping his arms over Sokka’s shoulders and playing with his wolf tail. Sokka tightens his arms around his waist. _Mine,_ he thinks. _Mine, mine, mine._

“Try not to do anything stupid while you’re away,” Zuko says. _I’m going to miss you_ is what he doesn’t say but what Sokka hears anyway. 

“I’m a genius and a master strategist,” Sokka replies. 

“Yea but you’re also kinda dumb,” Zuko says into his neck. Sokka pulls back and bends down to push his forehead against Zuko’s. 

“Still love me?” he asks. 

“Still love you,” Zuko whispers. “Still love me?” 

“Always.” Sokka kisses him one more time and then lets go, adjusting Zuko’s robes around him before stepping away. 

“Tell Katara and your dad that I say hi.” 

"But especially my dad right?" Sokka grins.

Zuko makes a sound of outrage and shoves him. "Just tell them." 

“I will,” Sokka promises, and then opens the door and leaves. 

* * *

Sokka manages to take two steps out the door before running into his least favorite Palace Guard. 

“So,” Jet grins, like an asshole, “Sounded like you had an eventful morning.” 

Sokka glances at him and keeps moving. “Fuck off Jet.” And oh great, Jet has taken this as an invitation to walk with him. _It’s good for him to be here and have something to do,_ Zuko had said. _Stop picking up strays,_ is what Sokka had replied. 

“You gonna be gone for a while?” 

“Why ever are you interested? Worried I'll forget your ugly mug?”

“I wanna know how long I’ll have to convince Zuko to leave you and come back to me.” 

Sokka glares and Jet fairly chortles. “I’ll never be gone long enough for that to happen.” 

“I don’t know,” Jet says lazily, “I think I still have a chance.” 

“The amount of unwarranted confidence you have is truly a miracle.” 

“Zuko certainly didn’t mind,” Jet waggles his eyebrows. Sokka moves closer to Jet. He’s only got about an inch on Jet, the bastard, but he uses it to its full potential. He grins at him, sharp. 

“Touch him and I’ll kill you.” 

Jet laughs and claps him on the shoulder. Ugh. He knows Jet only does this to get under his skin. They do this song and dance quite often. He hates that Jet doesn’t feel threatened, because that means he might think he and Sokka are interacting as friends, or something equally terrible. 

Jet stops before he moves too far past his post. 

“Have a good trip,” he calls out, waving, “don’t feel like you need to come back too soon. Say hi to your sister for me.” 

“I most certainly fucking won’t.” Sokka calls back. 

* * *

Katara’s ship is easy to spot in the harbor. Katara herself is also easy to spot, a speck of blue high up on the mast of the green and tan colors of the Earth Kingdom.

When she sees him, she climbs down quickly and meets him on the deck, throwing herself into his arms. They spin.

“Look at you,” Sokka says, “climbing up and down the mast like a spider-monkey. You’ve really got this sailing thing down.” 

“I should hope so, I’m doing it so much.” 

Sokka makes a show of looking around and lets out a low whistle. 

“Bumi gave you guys this ship?”

“Well, for as long as Aang and I are working out of Omashu.” 

“Nice. Wait till Dad sees it, he’s gonna freak.” 

Katara smirks at him. “And how about you Mr. Big Shot, have you been living it up in the Fire Nation?”

“Life’s pretty good when you’re dating the Fire Lord.” 

“And how is Zuko?”

“He’s good.” Sokka thinks about how they spent this morning. “Reeaaaaal good.” 

Katara gags. “Ew gross, please never make that face that you’re making or adapt that tone of voice ever again.” 

“Listen sis, I can’t help it. Zuko is a hot piece of ass.” 

“Oh my GOD, please never refer to Zuko as a hot piece of ass ever again.” 

Sokka laughs. Katara makes a face at him. “You’re disgusting. You’re giving men a bad name.” 

Sokka gasps, wounded. “I am not! I’m such a respectful boyfriend!” 

“If you have to say it -” Katara is cut off by a yell, and they both turn to see a Palace Guard riding a Komodo Rhino headed right for them.

The guard pulls up right alongside the ship, panicked and panting. He gestures wildly, trying to catch his breath. Sokka is instantly on alert. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Master Sokka,” he gasps, “The palace is under attack.”

A ringing fills his ears. “What?” he manages to get out. Under attack? He’d left but moments ago. Did he miss something? 

But Katara is already tugging on his arm. “Sokka,” she snaps, “move, let’s go.” This snaps him out of his stupor and he stumbles after her. They swing onto the back of the Komodo Rhino and it takes off with a grind of dust, not a moment wasted. 

Sokka hangs on as they pass through the familiar streets he’s just walked down. He thinks of the way he left Zuko in the morning, soft and rumpled. Katara’s arms squeeze around his middle, and he grips her forearm tightly in response. _Go,_ he pleads silently to their ride, _go, go._

* * *

When they crash into the main courtyard, the palace is in disarray. Servants and workers are running around, plumes of mist trailing through the hallways. Sokka jumps off the rhino before it has a chance to fully stop.

He hears the clanging of steel, the long familiar whoosh of flames flying through the air. But he can’t see any fighting. He grabs a guard sprinting past. “Where are we needed?”

“The attack is in the throne room,” the guard barks, “they’re after the Fire Lord.”

Zuko.

Sokka takes off, Katara hot on his heels. 

The throne room is chaos. Bodies are strewn across the ground. The air is humid with the stench of metallic blood. Hoarse cries are cut off by the sound of metal on metal. There’s too much happening, no way to keep track of one thread of action. 

The Palace Guards are holding position in a semi circle around the center dais. Figures dressed all in black wearing strange goggles swing from the rafters, some repelling down to engage with the guards. They wield heavy metal staffs that seem to spring out of their thick utility belts. 

The guards’ swords and spears clash against the attacker’s staffs, but they can’t seem to get close enough to land a hit. Every time they press closer, the attackers leap back, using the ropes’ momentum to swing back into the air, drawing them out of formation.

A second line of guards has taken their places in front of the semi circle, but they’re losing numbers.

Sokka pulls an attacker off the closest guard and runs him through with his sword. The man dies with a gurgle. Behind him he can hear the crackle of ice forming, taste the frost in the air as Katara sweeps her arms. 

He fights his way forward, unable to use anything but his sword in the crowded close quarters. 

As he gets closer to the dais and the throne, Sokka spies Jet, hooked swords glinting as he fights back attacker after attacker, each dropping from the ceiling faster than the last. Jet lunges away, and at last, Sokka can see Zuko. 

Zuko is a storm of perfect fury. He swings his dao around himself, spinning to viciously dispatch any who get too close. Flames burst from his hands, aiming for those in the rafters. 

These assholes are here to kill Zuko. They’re here to _kill Zuko._ His Zuko. The rage that has been simmering deep in Sokka’s gut since the harbor boils over, erupting into his chest, right in his very core. An ugly feeling rears its head and Sokka sets it free.

Someone drops onto Sokka from above and he jabs his elbow backwards, hard, using the freed space to turn and tackle them to the ground with a growl. He blocks the arm coming for his head and drops his weight along with the hilt of his sword right into the goggles on their face. The body under his goes limp. 

He pushes himself back up to standing and hears a loud crack. He looks to the side, sees a man mid lunge frozen solid. Katara glides past him on a sheet of ice and he nods his thanks. 

He glances back up at the throne again, unable to help himself. He meets Zuko’s shocked eyes. Sokka can see his name forming on Zuko’s lips and then -

Boom. The room shakes, Sokka hears a hissing noise and suddenly the air is filled with cloudy mist. He can’t see his own hand in front of him. The sounds of fighting have stopped and confused yells and coughing takes their place. 

“Katara!” He bellows. 

“On it!” she yells back, muffled. 

A tense moment passes in which an anticipated attack does not come. Then, slowly, and then all at once the mist swirls away and he can see Katara, arms moving in graceful arcs. The room is empty of attackers. 

The next thing he hears is Jet’s hoarse voice crying out. 

“Healer! Get the royal healer!” 

Sokka turns. 

Jet is kneeling on the ground, propping Zuko up. 

Zuko, who has a dagger sticking out of his stomach. 

His legs must have moved, they must have, because the next thing he knows he’s on the ground next to Zuko. 

Zuko is making horrible choked off gasping noises. His whole body trembles and his eyes track the ceiling sightlessly, squeezing shut in bouts of pain. 

“Baby,” Sokka murmurs. He grasps Zuko’s hand in his. The people around him are shouting but it only registers as muted cotton, he watches as Zuko’s frantic gaze darts all over before finally landing on him. 

Reality snaps back into place. 

Sokka glances down at where the dark stain is quickly spreading on Zuko’s robes. He hears the thump of knees hitting the ground and Katara pushes him aside. “Katara,” he pleads, “Katara.” 

“I know,” she says, firm. Her hands glow as she moves them above the wound in Zuko’s stomach. Sokka waits. He keeps his eyes on Zuko’s, brushing his long hair back from his face. Zuko’s finger keeps twitching in his palm, back and forth, back and forth. 

“What is it?” he whispers, “what is it sweetheart?” Twitch, twitch, goes Zuko’s finger. He can’t seem to get enough breath to talk. 

“I don’t understand,” Katara says, worry creeping into her voice. “What’s happening?” Sokka turns to her, afraid. “Get his robes open,” she orders. 

Sokka has to let go of Zuko’s hand and he lets out a tiny cry that nearly shatters him. Sokka makes quick work of the sash around Zuko’s waist, peeling back the folds of cloth to reveal his bare stomach. 

The dagger is gruesome. Even more so are the lines of black that are slowly creeping out from the wound, like someone has spilled ink into his veins. 

“Katara,” Sokka gasps out, “Katara do something.” 

“I can’t,” she cries, frantic. “It’s poison. The dagger must’ve been poisoned. I can’t stop it!” The black keeps creeping outwards, reaching Zuko’s ribs now. “We have to pull it out.” 

“I’ll do it,” Jet’s gruff voice says. Sokka had forgotten he was there. He crouches over Zuko now, hand grasping the handle of the dagger tightly. Katara nods and Jet presses his mouth into a thin line and - yanks. 

The scream that Zuko lets out travels through every fiber of Sokka’s being, leaving through his fingertips and toes and leaving them tingling like a static shock. It’s a sound that Sokka won’t forget for as long as he lives. It will haunt him in his nightmares. 

Katara presses down into the wound with her hands. Sokka bends over Zuko, stroking his face, cooing. “Breathe darling, breathe.” Zuko’s shaky hand comes up to clasp around Sokka’s wrist. His finger moves back and forth, back and forth. 

“What is it?” Sokka whispers, feeling like his throat is closing up, “what is it?”

Tap, tap. Sokka looks down at his wrist, his palm. In each spot where Zuko has dragged his finger repeatedly across Sokka’s skin is a heart. He’s drawn a heart for Sokka with his own blood. 

“Oh,” Sokka chokes out, the wetness crawling up. “I love you too. I love you so much, you’re going to be okay. You can’t leave me okay? You have to stay. Please Zuko, you have to stay.” 

Zuko looks up at him, unable to focus. His lips tilt in a shadow of a smile but suddenly he seizes, crying out. 

“ _Please_ Katara,” Sokka begs, frantic, “please, please.”

Katara makes a noise of frustration before sitting back. “Sokka you’re going to have to knock him out.”

“What?” Sokka cries. “No!” 

“The poison keeps spreading,” Katara grits out, “I don’t know how to stop it. I need to freeze him so we have time to figure this out and I don’t want him to be awake for it.” 

“I can’t - I can’t -” 

“Sokka!” she snaps, tears trickling out of the corners of her eyes. “He’s going to die!” Her words ring out in the empty high ceilings. “If you won’t do it,” she says, calmer, “I’ll ask Jet to.” 

Sokka looks over at Jet, who looks queasy. “No,” he says, “if it’s going to be anyone it’ll be me.” 

Sokka reaches out with a numb hand and drags his sword over. He cradles Zuko’s cheek in the other. 

“Hi baby,” he says, leaning back over him, trying to smile. “Keep your eyes on me okay? Just keep your eyes on me and don’t - don’t look away.” Zuko’s eyes flutter but he does his best. Trusting Sokka. 

“I love you,” Sokka says, and then brings his hand down, hilt first. Zuko goes limp. 

Jet grabs him around the chest and drags him back. Sokka screams, raw and anguished, jerking, trying to push his way back to Zuko. “Stop,” Jet barks in his ear. “Let Katara work.” 

Katara flicks her wrist and the air around them drops a few degrees. Frost blooms across Zuko’s pale skin, growing. It creeps along his body until an entire layer of ice forms, then another. 

By the time Katara is done Zuko is suspended, frozen solid in a giant, rectangular block of ice.

“Get this to the herbalists,” Katara commands, handing the dagger to the closest guard. “Tell them to figure out what’s on it.”

“Is he alive?” Sokka whispers, unable to tear his eyes away. Tries not to think about how the ice looks like a coffin.

“He should be. I brought his body temperature down very slowly.”

“How long will it last?”

Katara looks at Zuko, wringing her hands. “A week, I hope. Maybe more? But I...I don’t know.” 

* * *

Sokka washes the blood hearts off his hand and tries not to lose his mind. 

* * *

They move Zuko into a massive freezer in the palace kitchens. 

Sokka posts up in front of the door and refuses to leave. When he can’t bear it anymore, he goes inside the freezer to look at Zuko. It rips him apart. He wishes he could at least hold Zuko close, speak comforts into his ear. With an arms length of ice in between them, he can’t even get near. Can’t even touch. 

_If this is it,_ his thoughts whisper, _shouldn’t he leave tucked in the arms of the people who love him?_

Guards are stationed discreetly around the corridors leading up to the kitchens, worried about a second attack. The rest of the palace staff move about as if nothing had happened. 

_“We cannot let anyone outside the palace know what happened.”_ Zuko’s head advisor had said. _“As it stands, there is currently a power vacuum. With the Fire Lord in stasis we have no one to rule. There would be a mad grab for the throne if word got loose.”_

The official word was that Fire Lord Zuko had sustained minor injuries and was currently resting to heal. Zuko’s bedroom was heavily guarded to keep up appearances. If one didn’t take in the haggard appearances and furtive looks of the palace staff, no one would notice anything amiss. 

No one would know that the entirety of Sokka’s heart lay encased in ice in the middle of the palace kitchens. 

Uncle Iroh arrives two days later. 

He grips Sokka’s shoulders before tugging him in for a tight, too tight, hug. Sokka holds on just as tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry too,” Iroh chokes out. 

The two of them sit together outside the freezer. They don’t talk, but it’s a comfort to have him there. There’s a solidarity that even Katara couldn’t provide him. 

When the advisors come to speak to Iroh about _succession_ and _contingency plans_ he only nods, weary and old. He looks like a man too accustomed to mourning. When they leave, Sokka unclenches his jaw and tells him to go and take a break. Iroh visits the garden but is back not twenty minutes later.

And so they keep their vigil, two men stationed outside a freezer containing the most important part of their hearts inside. 

* * *

On the fifth day, the herbalist comes to the kitchens. 

“It’s Nightcreep,” she says, grim. “It hasn’t been seen for over a hundred years. It’ll spread through the veins until there’s nothing left of him.” 

“The cure?” Katara asks, hand squeezing on Sokka’s shoulder. 

“None to speak of.”

Sokka gasps out a mangled, grating sound. Beside him, Iroh goes white. 

“So,” he says, hoarse, “so he’s…”

The herbalist hesitates. “There is a... legend. An old tale. The cure to Nightcreep grows at the top of the Eastern Mountains, in a cave none have ever returned from.”

“Why hasn’t anyone ever returned?” Katara asks. 

“A spirit lives in the cave. It’s said he’s killed every human that’s ever ventured inside.”

* * *

That night Sokka paces back and forth in front of the freezer.

“Sokka,” Katara stresses, “wait for Aang. You can’t go there alone, Aang knows how to handle the spirit world. You don’t.”

“Your sister is right,” Iroh says, grim. “We need the Avatar.”

Sokka turns back to Katara. “You said yourself that Bumi and Aang are off on some quest in who-knows-where! We don’t even know when we’ll be able to find him, much less when he’ll be able to get here.” 

“What good are you to Zuko dead?” Katara asks. 

“He’s dying! How much longer can he last in the ice?” Sokka yells. “I can’t. I can’t _do_ this without him.”

Katara hugs him. He clings to her, desperate. He thinks of waking up in the mornings without Zuko’s bare toes poking into his calves. Thinks of the way Zuko turns to look at him anytime he sees something funny, like he’s checking to make sure Sokka finds it funny too. His eyes bright, his smile wide and easy. Thinks about having to live day after day, knowing that Zuko’s left without him. 

He doesn’t realize he’s sobbing until he feels Katara stroking his hair, shushing him gently and rocking them back and forth.

“Sokka,” Iroh says, “I understand what you are feeling. There is no other choice but to wait for Aang. If you go alone you may end up paying a price you’re not prepared to pay.” 

“Okay,” Sokka says. “Okay.” 

* * *

Sokka leaves a few hours later, in the middle of the night.

He creeps silently down the dark hallways past the stoic guards, pack slung across his back. He’s almost out the doors when Jet melts from the shadows. 

“You going to the cave?” Jet asks. He looks like he hasn’t slept for days.

“Yeah.”

“Want me to come with you?” 

They both know why he can’t. It’s still a decent offer. 

“Stay. Protect Zuko,” Sokka says. 

Jet is a Palace Guard, his job is to protect the throne. But Jet is not Fire Nation, his loyalties have always been hazy and nebulous. He will understand Sokka’s deliberate word choice. In this, Sokka can be sure. 

“Yeah,” Jet murmurs. “Good luck. Don’t die” 

“Thanks. Take care of him. Don’t die.”

“Thanks.”

It goes unsaid why they both can’t die. 

* * *

Sokka takes an eel hound from the stables. 

“Easy girl,” he murmurs when she grunts at him, angered at being awoken so late in the night. She calms under Sokka’s stroking. 

He swings onto her back and they take off. Sokka grips the harness and falls into the rhythmic thud of the eel hound’s paws. The frantic desperation of earlier has given way to a numb determination. There is a way to save Zuko. He will find it and he will bring it back. There is no other option. 

The city limits ends where the forest begins, and the eel hound dives headfirst into the thick brush. She doesn’t falter or break pace. The air around them sucks inward, sounds from the open volcanic landscape of the capital fading away. Now Sokka can hear the hoots of ferret owls overhead, the chirps and rustling of nighttime in the forest surrounding them. 

The dense pines blur past, the damp, woodsy scent filling his lungs. The eel hound moves swiftly, living up to her name, and Sokka drifts.

* * *

Years before, Sokka had walked into the Fire Lord’s chambers only to be met with the sight of the Fire Lord himself struggling to keep a hold of a tiny, towel wrapped bundle. 

He had leaned against a bedpost and raised an eyebrow at Zuko. “What’ve you got there pal?” 

He watched as Zuko unfolded the corner of the towel to reveal a squirming lizard mole. It’s an ugly little thing, wet and fluffed up. Zuko cooed at it like it was a baby, curling around him. 

“He was crying all alone out in the open,” he said, growing defensive at Sokka’s continued scrutiny.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Sokka said, hands raised. 

Zuko glared. “He was going to get _eaten_.” 

“That’s the way nature works.” 

“He’s _old._ He can’t run fast anymore.” 

Sokka looked closer. It did seem a bit droopy. “How can you tell?” 

“He’s got a lot of stripes on his tail.” Zuko let the little lizard mole gnaw at his finger. He used his other hand to stroke a careful finger down his fluffy back. 

Something inside Sokka fluttered. _Oh,_ he thought. _So this is what’s underneath all the bluster. Someone, at some point, must have taught him differently but._

_This is a gentle boy._

“Want me to build him a nest? I’ll put in pipes he can climb around in.”

Zuko very deliberately does not look at him. “...Yes.”

Three months later when the lizard mole died, Sokka helped Zuko bury him in the gardens and held his head against his chest so that he could cry without the guards seeing him. 

* * *

They stop after the sun has risen and then set again. The eel hound is built for endurance, but even she has her limits. 

Sokka settles them near a stream. According to his maps, the stream should take them straight up to its source - the highest peak of the Eastern Mountains. The eel hound splashes around in the water, tongue lolling. Once she’s cooled down Sokka strokes her flank and feeds her some jerky from his pack. 

Fed and watered, she curls up to sleep. Sokka shakes out his sleeping bag and lays on the ground next to her. 

He keeps a grip on his boomerang as his eyes start to close, the exhaustion from the straight night and day of riding weighing heavy on his consciousness.

The tops of the trees blur together with the inky night sky peeking through, and the sounds of the forest at night lulls Sokka into an uneasy sleep. 

He dreams.

* * *

The Earth King’s party was in full swing. The music was lively, the drinks were sparkling and all the various delegations were riding the high of a successful day of talks. 

Sokka leaned against a high table, laughing at Aang’s attempt to wax poetry to Katara. He petered off into chuckles and glanced around the room, heart light at all the different nation’s colors intermingling together. 

There, on the far side of the room, was Zuko. His stoic guards stood a ways behind him, their stillness sticking out. He was in conversation with an Earth Kingdom man, some distant nephew or cousin of the Earth King himself. The man was leaning closer and closer to Zuko, touching his waist, his hand. Zuko himself held fast to a polite smile, neither leaning forward nor moving back. Sokka scowled. 

“Gotta take care of something,” he said to Katara and Aang, “see you guys later.” 

Katara followed his line of vision and then rolled her eyes. 

“Where’s he going?” he heard Aang ask. 

“He’s going to be a dumbass,” Katara answered, but Sokka was already too far across the room to dignify that with a reply. 

“...it’s really beautiful this time of year, I could take you there myself if you’d like to stay a few days,” the nephew-or-cousin was saying as Sokka edged in next to the pair. 

“Your highness,” Sokka said, looking only at Zuko. “Could I steal you away for a moment?” 

Zuko hesitated. His companion looked quite disgruntled to have had the Fire Lord’s attention stolen from him. 

“Of course,” he finally said to Sokka. He turned to Nephew-or-cousin. “Thank you for the conversation, I hope you’ll excuse my departure.” 

“Do think on my invitation.” 

“I will,” Zuko promised.

Sokka lead Zuko away with a deliberate arm wrapped around his waist. He threw a look over his shoulder to make sure his message had gotten across. Based on the glare he received, it had. 

“Ditch this party with me,” Sokka murmured into Zuko’s ear. Zuko nodded. 

When they got to his rooms, Sokka closed the doors and pulled Zuko to sit on the bed. Zuko’s robes fanned out around him. He looked stunning. Sokka could hardly blame Nephew-or-cousin for taking his chance. 

Zuko’s hair was tied in a high ponytail, loose strands framing his face like a willow tree’s caress. His robes were a pale gold embroidered with white thread, and they only served to further bring out the glow of his skin. His collar sat halfway up his neck, accentuating the elegant lines of his throat. 

“Don’t consider that guy’s invitation,” Sokka said. 

Zuko looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?” 

Sokka narrowed his eyes at him, and leaned in close enough that he could feel Zuko’s breath on his skin. “You know why.”

Zuko glared back. “No I don’t.” 

Sokka closed the distance between them and pushed his lips against Zuko’s in a bruising kiss. Zuko pushed right back and Sokka wrapped his arms around him, pulling them both to fall back onto the bed. 

He felt Zuko relax against him, and something in him settled. He grinded against him lazily, and Zuko’s mouth opened to let out a high gasp. Sokka pulled away with some effort and reached for the nightstand to pull out a vial of oil. 

When he turned back, Zuko had let his robes fall open. Sokka ran his eyes greedily over the smooth, lithe body. He crawled back, hovering over Zuko.

He pushed two oil coated fingers in. Zuko winced. Sokka grinned. “Still tender from last night?” 

“Get on with it,” Zuko snapped, and Sokka did. 

When he finally pushed into him, Sokka closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of being surrounded by warm, soft heat. It felt like a welcome home. Zuko whined, and his ankles tightened around Sokka’s back. 

“Okay baby,” Sokka hummed, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He pulled back and thrust in, setting a steady, punishing pace. 

Zuko was a mess of choked off moans and gasps. He didn’t seem to realize the little “Uhn, uhn, uhn” that he was letting out with each of Sokka’s thrusts, and Sokka groaned, endlessly turned on. 

Zuko clenched around him and Sokka grunted. He sped up his rhythm, and soon they were both falling into the brief oblivion of crested pleasure. 

Afterwards, Sokka reclined against the pillows, elbow propped up on his bent knee. He watched as Zuko got up on shaky legs to pull his robes tightly back around himself.

“You know,” Sokka said with a deliberate casualness, “you don’t always have to leave afterwards.” 

Zuko paused. Sokka pushed on. “You could stay the night. We could wake up together.” 

Zuko turned. “You want me to stay?” 

Sokka shrugged. “Yeah. I do. But only if you want to.” 

He saw Zuko visibly struggle with himself. As much as he didn’t think it, his face was often an open book of emotions. He’d never been any good at hiding or lying. Or maybe Sokka just knew how to read him. 

“Okay,” he finally said, soft like the word might blow away with a light breeze. He dropped his robes to the ground. 

Sokka wordlessly opened his arms and Zuko sank back into them. He wrapped his arms around him and tucked him close and safe. He felt Zuko’s breath in the crook of his neck, stroked the soft skin of the dip of his waist. Zuko wiggled his toes in between Sokka’s calves, surprisingly cold. The thing that had been writhing in his stomach since the party slept, finally at peace.

Zuko was gone before Sokka had woken the next morning. 

Still, progress.

* * *

The air gets colder as they get higher up the mountain. Sokka stops only long enough for the eel hound to drink from the stream and to pull on a parka before pressing on.

The tips of ears grow red and numb. The trees start to thin out, the mossy ground beneath them turning to frosty packed dirt. His bloated fingers lock around the reins. They press on. 

Finally, the trees peter out entirely and they burst out onto a flat, rocky plateau. Sokka pulls the eel hound to a stop, squinting upwards. He sees a squirrel bat briefly in flight before it disappears somewhere above them. A cave, then. It’ll be a straight rock scramble up. 

“Hey!” he hears, and whips around. The eel hound crouches low, growling. Sokka’s hand goes for his sword. 

A group of three men stand before them. It looks like they just came around the bend.

“Hello,” Sokka calls out, cautious.

“Where you headed?” One of them asks. He’s got a full beard and a cut across one severe eyebrow.

“I’m looking for some herbs.”

“Funny place to be looking for herbs.” At Sokka’s silence, the man gestures to his companions behind him, two equally dangerous looking men. “We’re headed to the capital, came from the villages down on the other side.”

“You’re going the right way.”

The man steps closer. “That’s a fine looking sword you have there.” Sokka hears the smooth shink of metal, and all three draw their own swords. “Could use that eel hound too.”

The men charge but Sokka’s already mid swing, boomerang flying out to knock each man to the ground like a row of cards. He’s got his sword tip at the leader’s throat before he can recover. “Don’t test me,” he snarls. “I don’t have time for you.” He jerks his head to the trees. “Get out of my sight.”

He waits until the men and their venomous glares slink into the forest. Then he turns the eel hound around, and they begin the scramble upwards.

* * *

“Get out of here!” Zuko shouted at him. The temple was quickly caving in, the latest casualty of Team Avatar’s adventures of exploration and justice.

“No!” Sokka shouted back. “I’m not leaving you behind!” Zuko made a sound of frustration. He ran up and cupped Sokka’s face in both hands.

“Sokka, these traps are triggered by fire. I’m a firebender. You need to go.” Sokka searched his stubborn gaze before letting out a harsh breath. Zuko nodded and Sokka turned and ran out. He didn’t look back. If he did, there’s no way he would have been able to leave.

He reached open air at the same time as Toph does.

“Sparky?” she asked.

“Still inside. He’s dealing with the traps.”

Aang and Katara ran up.

“Nice one guys!” Aang looked around. “Where’s Zuko?” Sokka jerked his head toward the crumbling temple and he and Katara turned to watch.

“He’s really cutting it close,” Katara muttered.

“How pissed would people be if we lost the Fire Lord in a booby trapped death temple?” Toph asked.

“Pretty fucking pissed,” Sokka said, fists clenched. Somewhere deep in the temple there was a muffled boom. A slow dust cloud rolled out of the entrance. Sokka did not breathe.

Zuko walked out of the ruins, limping. Aang cheered. “Phew,” Toph said, “really dodged a bad one there. I would’ve nominated Aang to be the next Fire Lord and that would have been an embarrassment. He definitely doesn’t sit as pretty as Zuko on the throne.” 

“What a terrible thought,” Katara said.

Sokka was already sprinting towards Zuko. He caught him around the waist and felt Zuko lean his weight against him. “Fuck you,” he hissed, “never, never do that to me again.” Zuko smiled up at him, unapologetic. “I’m not joking.” Sokka clenched his hand on the back of Zuko’s neck. “You don’t get to leave without me.”

Zuko kissed him.

In the background, Sokka could hear Katara gagging.

* * *

The first sign happens when the wind cuts out.

The eerie silence that descends makes the eel hound wary, her tail drooping low. Sokka bribes her with jerky and coaxes her on.

When Sokka spots the lip of the cave above them, a strange buzzing fills the air. It’s not something he can hear, but it is something he can feel. Like the air itself is vibrating. His skin feels tight, like he’s being pulled in different directions.

The eel hound whines and starts thrashing. “Easy girl, easy!” Sokka cries, but no amount of calming has any effect on her. She bucks and Sokka goes tumbling off. She takes off back down the mountain, likely headed for home. Sokka curses.

He’s got no ride back, but the cave is still within his reach. He’ll figure out the rest later. He climbs. His muscles strain with the effort of pulling himself up again and again.

When he flips over the side of the entrance ledge, he sees the glow. The entire mouth of the cave is filled with an ominous grey light. A sound like a deep, guttural hum emanates from it. 

Sokka stands in front of the cave that no one has ever returned from and straightens his back.

He thinks of Zuko, cuddled into a mound of blankets, smiling shyly up at him. He thinks of Zuko, pale and blue, eyes closed, suspended in ice.

He steps into the cave.

\- the _air_

swirling

a scream, his own

_So,_ a deep voice rumbles, _a human has come for me once again. It has been a while._ It sounds like it’s coming from nowhere and everywhere. It sounds amused.

_What do you seek, human?_

_A cure,_ Sokka thinks.

_Oh?_ The fog clears ahead, and Sokka sees a tranquil pond, delicate white flowers growing at its edges. _You come to steal from me?_

_I need them._

_Don’t they all? You wish to leave with something of mine, yet you have brought no offering. Tell me why I shouldn’t eat you where you stand._

_Please. I have someone to save._

_Hmmm._ The presence in his mind tugs, and flashes race past –

Zuko, the first time Sokka wakes up with the sun on his face and Zuko still in his arms.

Zuko, the first time he whispers “I love you” like a secret, like a treasure.

Zuko, glaring and spitting mad, reaching up to crush his lips into Sokka’s.

Zuko.

_Who is this?_ the presence asks.

_Zuko._

_But you do not refer to him by this name. You call him Baby, you call him Sweetheart. What is he?_

_He is everything._

_What are you willing to give up, for him?_

_Anything._

_Anything?_ Sokka feels the flicker of interest like a forked tongue.

_Who are you?_

The fog shifts and Sokka sees a pair of slitted eyes, a wide row of sharp, sharp teeth towering over him.

_I? I am the spirit Du._

A long, curling tongue.

_I have been trapped in this cave for centuries, banished from the spirit world, cursed to never leave this place. I wish to move about your world as you do._

_What do you need from me?_

_Your body. Your soul. But only to share. We will be one._

Sokka hesitates. _How will I know you won’t go out and rain destruction on my world?_

_There will be no you, or me. There will only be us. We will live in this body together and we will want the same things. I only wish to roam free. You will still be you. I will just be with you._

_Why me? Why not the ones before me?_

The mouth grins, impossibly wide, impossibly sharp.

_You are compatible._

_Okay._

_Okay?_

_Like I said, I have someone to save._

The fog coalesces into one swirling black mass. The grin is the last thing to go.

Then,

It aims for Sokka’s chest and he yells, bracing for impact but it doesn’t come, instead the mass goes _into_ him and he feels it right in his core. It spreads, he can feel it move through his limbs like one wave crashing over another until it is everywhere, it is a part of him. The last wave crashes, turning into foam.

Something has changed.

He walks to the pond, the cave now free of fog. In the still water he sees his reflection.

It’s grotesque. He’s large. His entire body looks like it’s coated in slick black tar. There are the misty white eyes, and the wide, wide mouth full of fangs. He feels queasy.

_Oh relax._ Du says from inside his mind. He shifts, and suddenly it’s his own human face staring back in the water. _We can keep the human image. We can stay hidden._

_But you can also come out?_

_When we feel like it._

Sokka stretches, feeling his limbs. He feels stronger somehow. Sharper. More aware. He takes a deep breath in.

_I will never be alone in my mind ever again,_ he thinks. It’s not a kind thought.

_No._

Sokka sees the elongated smile full of teeth in his mind.

_Now. Let’s go save Baby._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long, long time in the making. If you hate it, too bad, because I will cry. Just kidding you can tell me. I will still cry because I like crying. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who left encouragement on my last fic. It meant the world to me and I used it as fuel to vomit out this mess. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [arejour](https://arejour.tumblr.com/). I'm happy to talk! 
> 
> See you in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, there are in fact now 3 chapters instead of 2.

There’s a woman sitting in the corner of the room. 

Well, it’s not so much a room as it is a vaguely floaty space, colors flowing together like oil paint in water, alive. 

Zuko’s been in this not-room for a while. 

The woman has been here the entire time. 

Her hair hangs in her face so he’s never able to get a glance, but her dark robes flow around her like the oil-paint-colors. She shifts, now and again, but she never leaves her spot in the corner. Her shoulders are at ease but she sits in a way that suggests action would not be hard to reach. 

She’s waiting for him. He can feel it.

Zuko floats. 

  
  


* * *

Sokka stands at the mouth of Du’s cave, frowning. The sun was at the start of its slow climb downwards. “My eel hound ran off.” 

_So?_

“So, how in Koh’s dirty ballsack are we going to get back?” 

Du snorts. In his mind. Still weird. 

_Don’t insult me. An eel hound could never keep up._

“Wh-” Sokka gets out half a word before his body is shifting again, that unsettling feeling of bones moving, and they should be cracking apart with the way they’re shoved out of alignment but instead it’s… slimy. Like slithering. 

Du - Sokka - _they?_ exhale. It’s the sound of steam hissing, low and dark. Then he takes off. 

Sokka yells but it’s muffled inside his new body. There’s dark green blurs whipping past, and he realizes they’re _trees._ He’s running so fast his eyes don’t have time to register full shapes, long tar covered arms pushing off the ground to force himself faster still. There’s an irregular snap-snap sound, and oh gods those are _branches_ that Du is plowing directly through. He doesn’t even feel it. 

Movement, out of his left eye. A memory flashes past - recent. The three rugged men who tried to rob him at the foot of the cave. 

Du turns so sharply it takes Sokka’s brain a moment to reorient himself. He gallops right into their camp, where the three men leap up from their places around a half-built campfire. There’s hollering and chaos as they scramble for their weapons. Sokka hears someone scream “What the fuck _IS_ that?” and his head swivels to look at the man - it’s Eyebrow Scar, the ringleader - before his mouth opens wide, wide, and just - 

crunches

down

over Eyebrow Scar’s skull. 

  
  
  


They’re chewing, Sokka thinks distantly, over the ringing in his ears. 

They’re swallowing now. A man’s head, they’re swallowing a man’s head. 

He’s stuck on that thought even as Du lunges for the other two, stuck on that thought and the ringing in his ears. 

  
  
  
  
  


The first sound that comes back is birds chirping. It’s a cheerful sound, and it doesn’t match. Then a light breeze. Leaves rustling. 

Okay. 

Du’s head retracts, and it’s Sokka now, Sokka with his human face and his human lungs taking a deep breath in before stumbling on Du’s legs to the edge of the clearing and promptly vomiting all over the ground. 

Du makes a noise of displeasure. 

“What,” Sokka coughs out, “the FUCK?” 

_Are you unhappy?_

“You just ATE three people! You barely chewed! What - why -” 

_They tried to harm you before. We eliminated them._

“Okay one, we need to set some ground rules on who needs to be eliminated. Two, the way we eliminate people is never ever going to be EATING THEM.” 

_Why._

“Because it’s disgusting.” 

_We don’t think it’s disgusting. We like it._

“No eating humans.” 

_Fine._

Du sounds disgruntled and Sokka could not care less. He grabs a fallen canteen and takes several swigs of water before spitting it out. Closes his eyes and let’s himself take three deep lungfuls of pine scented air.

He’s just eaten three men. 

Zuko’s still waiting for him. 

“Okay, let’s go. No more distractions.” 

Smooth darkness surrounds his head. 

They take off. 

  
  


* * *

Sokka held Zuko’s hand. 

Sokka held Zuko’s hand _in public_ , and tried not to act too smug about it. Judging by the glares Zuko kept shooting his way, he was not being very successful at that particular endeavor. Oh well. 

He leaned over to whisper in Zuko’s ear. “You look good.” 

He did. Zuko, perpetually underdressed for Southern Water Tribe climates, was dressed in Sokka’s own oversized coat. His chin was tucked into the soft, puffy collar and with the hood pulled up only his pink cheeks and eyes could be seen peeking out. His fingers curled around the edges of the sleeves. He looked like a seal penguin pup waddling around. 

He also looked like _Sokka’s_ , but he didn’t think he’d be able to get away with saying that one out loud yet. 

They walked through the newly built market, bustling with all the various surrounding tribes. It was a place to gather and reconnect. Sokka loved it. He knew it made Zuko happy too, to see what was being rebuilt. 

“Sokka!” Sokka turned to see Kallik grinning and leaning on the counter of his crowberry juice stand. “If it isn’t the hero of men, breaker of hearts himself!”

Sokka tugged Zuko over. “Kallik! Good to see you man, how’s your mother doing?” 

Kallik waved a lazy hand. “Oh she’s thriving. The crowberries can’t be picked fast enough, turns out she’s got a real green thumb, my mother. Good with a spear and good with a trowel. Real pleased about it.” He plopped a fresh cup in both of their hands. Sokka took a sip and let out an appreciative murmur. 

“Tell her it tastes amazing. Freshest cup this side of the equator.” Sokka tried to push a few coins towards Kallik who punched him in the arm. 

“Your money’s no good here, come on don’t embarrass me.” 

Sokka tried to protest but Kallik’s attention was no longer on him, instead squinting at Zuko’s face. 

“...Aren’t you the Fire Lord?” 

Zuko flushed. “Um… I guess, that’s - yes. I am.” 

“Huh. What do you think of my crowberry juice Fire Lord?”

“It’s very refreshing, it - I haven’t had it before, I um, I like it… a lot. Thank you.” 

Kallik smiled. “Means a lot coming from the Fire Lord.” 

Zuko finally looked up to meet Kallik’s eyes. “Please, just call me Zuko.” 

Kallik looked taken aback but quickly recovered. 

“Zuko, then.” 

Zuko smiled, small and pleased, and tucked his chin further into his collar. It made Sokka’s chest glow with fond warmth. Zuko turned back to Sokka. 

“I’ll let you two catch up, I’m just going to be over there.” He gestured to the stands nearby. 

“Okay,” Sokka nodded. He let Zuko’s hand go, fingers lingering. 

“How about that. I’m on a first name basis with the Fire Lord.” Kallik looked mildly impressed watching Zuko go. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Sokka gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder. 

Kallik propped his chin up on his hand, leaning back onto the counter. “Heard he’s making a lot of changes. Seems like an okay guy.” 

Sokka grinned. “Yeah, he is.” 

Kallik slid his eyes to the side, glancing at Sokka. “We got sent a shipload of construction supplies in our village. Fire Nation supplies. You didn’t have anything to do with that did you?” 

“Nope, that was all Zuko.” 

“Huh.” Kallik looked contemplative. “It’s good to see someone on that throne doing good.” 

Sokka couldn’t help the feeling of pride that bloomed even if he tried. 

“Pretty too,” Kallik continued. Sokka laughed. 

“Yeah he is. Looks good in blue doesn’t he?” 

“Sure does.” All of a sudden Kallik’s demeanor changed, turning sly and mischievous. “Sooooo…you and him?” 

Sokka sighed, leaning against the counter. “I’m trying. We’re getting there.” 

They watched Zuko, flustered again while talking to two old ladies thrusting different wool scarves around his neck, seemingly arguing about which one complimented his hair better. 

Kallik patted his shoulder in a brotherly manner. “Nice.” 

  
  
  


That night in Sokka’s tent Zuko carefully shed his coat and hung it up, smoothing out the wrinkles and patting it down. 

Sokka watched him from place on the bed, fur blankets pooled around his waist as he leaned against the headboard. Zuko finished his fussing and turned to face him. For a moment, there was nothing in the air but the crackle of the fire and the space between their gazes. 

“Hey,” Sokka said, quiet and soft. “Come here.” 

Zuko blinked, eyes moving down to the floor before coming back up. Then he was prowling across the floor, graceful and contained in a way Sokka never had been. He crawled right onto the bed, right over Sokka’s legs until they were nose to nose, breathing the same air. 

Sokka leaned forward and placed a kiss on each of Zuko’s eyelids and his nose, before he pulled back. Sokka let his eyes roam across the planes of his face, the delicate skin of his cheeks, the scar, the slope of his jaw.

Zuko’s eyes darted around, to the right of Sokka’s face, to the left, below his chin - never able to meet his eyes. Sokka reached up and crooked a finger under his chin. He gave Zuko a little nudge. Instead of making eye contact, Zuko dropped down into Sokka’s lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and sealed their lips together. 

Sokka let himself be distracted. It wasn’t his fault okay, it was a very, very tempting and well executed distraction. 

When Zuko began a soft back and forth tilt of his hips Sokka knew his time was up if he didn’t want to get completely derailed. Such a shame, Zuko had a great ass, so plump, so soft - 

Sokka wrapped one arm around Zuko’s back to tumble him gently into the furs and planted his arms on either side of his head. He looked down at Zuko. 

“I’m really glad you came.” 

Zuko looked taken aback, nose wrinkling in a decidedly undignified way. It made him look a little wonky and Sokka’s heart swelled against his ribcage, wanting to escape. 

“...Sokka, of course. You come to the Fire Nation all the time.” 

“Still, I know it’s not always easy for you to get away.” 

“Yeah but…” He gestured at Sokka’s entire being helplessly, “you know.” 

It was annoying really, how everything Zuko does left Sokka more and more enamoured. Being unable to articulate himself is not something Sokka would have pegged as an attractive trait, but here they were. What a jerk. 

“Katara’s always happy to see you.” 

“That’s because I let her braid my hair and I fill her in on Palace gossip.” 

“Gran Gran too. She’s always asking if you’re going to visit before she gets too old and it’s too late.” 

Zuko grinned. “Uncle makes the same threats.” 

“And Dad, Dad likes seeing you.” A pause. Sokka lifted a single brow. 

“...Yeah. Yep. Seeing Chief Hakoda is...always a pleasure.” Zuko’s eyes flicked away.

“Whoa what was that? That was weird. Why did you just say that so weirdly?” 

Zuko squeaked and turned bright red. “It wasn’t weird! I said that normal! You’re being weird!”

“Uhhhh nope that was definitely something.” Sokka had to pry Zuko’s hands off from where he’s clasped them over his face. “Come on then, what’s your hang up with my dad?” 

“No hang up.” 

Sokka leveled him with an unimpressed look. 

Zuko squirmed a little longer before releasing a breath. It seemed to deflate him as he shrunk into the furs somehow managing to look curled in on himself without actually curling. 

“Your father is just…”

Sokka nodded encouragingly. 

“...very handsome.” Zuko finished and looked like he wanted to cease existing. 

Sokka’s jaw dropped open. Dead silence. Zuko swallowed. 

“Are you… fucking kidding me? You have a crush on my _dad??”_

“I don’t have a crush on him! He’s just a very good looking man, it’s not my fault for noticing!” 

Sokka collapsed back into his previous position leaned against the headboard, throwing his hands up. Zuko rolled over and buried his face into the pillow. Sokka snorted.

“This is not how I had hoped your issues with your father would manifest.” 

Zuko turned so that one glistening eye could glare up at him. “Don’t even joke.” Sokka shook his head.

“Usurped by my own dad.” 

Zuko punched him in the side. “I don’t have a crush on him. He just gives really nice hugs and has - really good genes! It’s nerve wracking!” 

Sokka retaliated by smushing Zuko’s face back into the pillow. “That’s at least a polarpuppy crush.” 

Zuko groaned like the dramatic brat that he was. Sokka let him wallow in his embarrassment for a few heartbeats. 

“Hey.” 

Zuko’s single eye was back on him. Sokka waggled his eyebrows wildly. 

“I have the same genes as my dad you know. Does this mean you think I’m a very handsome man as well?” 

Zuko rolled his eyes. Sokka reached out to poke him just below the ribs where he knew Zuko was sensitive. Zuko screeched with anger and pushed his body up to launch himself at Sokka. The furs quickly got tangled as they dissolved into a tussling match. 

Sokka could only see flashes of the tent between the fluff and Zuko’s limbs. “Ow Zuko, did you just _bite me_?” Flash of pelt. “Sokka, OW!” Zuko’s smooth forearm. “Don’t - you keep your teeth in your mouth-” “Don’t PINCH!” 

Somewhere in there, they started laughing. And then somewhere in there, they started kissing. 

Sokka had never felt so comfortable as he did then, laying on haphazard furs and pillows with Zuko in his arms. He was surrounded by softness and warmth. One of his hands wandered up from Zuko’s waist to cup his neck and brush his hair out of the way. Zuko pressed closer. Yeah, Sokka could die happy like this. 

It was only when Zuko’s hand began trailing down his stomach that Sokka gently grabbed his wrist. 

“Baby,” he said, and waited for Zuko to open his eyes. “We don’t have to. We can just cuddle and sleep.” 

Zuko looked a little lost. “You would… want that?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? A cold night, warm bed, a gorgeous boy in my arms. Best sleep I’ll ever get.” 

“And no…”

“No. Just this, with you, is enough.” 

Zuko slowly laid his head on Sokka’s shoulder. “Oh,” he breathed, a puff of air against skin. Sokka smiled up at the ceiling of the tent. He hoped Zuko got it. 

A distant wind howled outside. Footsteps crunched in the snow as the night watch traded places. Zuko’s toes were tiny points of contact between his calves. A sense of deep contentment made its place in Sokka’s belly. 

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Zuko lightly prodded his shoulder. 

“Mm?” He mumbled. 

“Sokka,” Zuko whispered, “is this because I said your dad was hot earlier?” 

Sokka groaned, rolled over on top of Zuko, and attempted to suffocate the man he loved with his entire body. 

* * *

Sokka should be relieved to be getting closer to the palace but instead the closer they get the more the air refuses to leave his lungs. 

It’s been days. If something’s happened while he’s been gone, if something’s gone wrong, if Zuko’s run out of time before he could get back - 

If Zuko has slipped away without Sokka there to hold him, 

without Sokka there to say one last goodbye, 

give him one last kiss to send him on his way. 

If he’s died and Sokka wasn’t even there to shelter him during his last breath. 

Oh, god. What has he done. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s never going to be able to forgive himself. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He gasps for breath that’s coming in too fast, too short, not enough.

_Breathe._

And then his chest is expanding through no effort of his own, filling with air. And out. And in. His heartbeat slowly returns to normal. 

They’re in sight of the palace gates. The odd feeling of being stretched inwards, and then the monster disappears and the man stands in his place once more. Sokka reaches into his pocket to clench his hand around the flowers. 

_Go. He’s waiting._

He doesn’t remember getting into the palace, or getting past the guards. The next thing he knows he’s standing in the doorway of the kitchens and Katara is lifting her head from where her folded arms rest on the counter, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She gasps and then there's a clatter as the chair falls back when she launches herself into his arms. 

Iroh stands from his seat next to the freezer doors, face grim. Jet leans against the wall on the other side, wary. 

“You idiot!” Katara cries into his neck, stuttering over her tears. “I told you to wait, you idiot, you idiot.” His arms come up around her reflexively. His eyes meet Jet’s over her shoulder.

“No changes,” Jet reports, voice hoarse. “Did you get the plant?” 

“Yeah.” Sokka pulls the tiny bundle of white flowers from his pocket and hands it over to Iroh. Iroh looks him over, does a head to toe sweep. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but doesn’t manage to. His hand tightens and he leaves the room without a word. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” Katara asks, leaning back to wipe at her cheeks. 

“Got to the cave. The flowers were there just like she said.” 

“What was in the cave Sokka? How did you survive?” 

“Later,” he says. Suddenly there’s an iron grip on his shoulder. He looks down at Katara’s hand. 

“Sokka.” Her voice is steel. “When I woke up and you were gone, I thought we were going to have to send Aang after your dead body. Now you’re here, alive, and you’ve brought back some spiritual healing herb that people have died trying to get - what _happened_?” 

_Tell her._

_No, not yet._

“Katara, I promise I’ll tell you later okay? I promise. Just - can we just first,” He gestures at the freezer. 

Her shoulders drop. “Yeah. Yes, okay.” She cradles his cheek.

He walks over to Jet by the freezer door. “What’s going on with the rest of the palace?” Jet sighs and drops into Iroh’s now unoccupied chair. 

“Bunch of people poking around wanting to see the Fire Lord. Lots of advisors getting suspicious. The extra guards in front of his bedroom are holding them off, they all still think he’s in there, but. Just a matter of time before someone gets impatient.” 

Sokka nods and puts a hand on the freezer door. He glances down at Jet. “Get much sleep?” Jet snorts. 

“Hardly. You?”

Sokka smiles, tight lipped and grim. “Hardly.” He claps Jet on the shoulder and pushes the door open. 

The chill makes itself known by gently settling on his skin as soon as the door slams shut. He makes his way over to the block of ice. Only Zuko’s blurry outline can be seen. He places his hand down, then his forehead down on top of it. He closes his eyes. 

* * *

  
  
“When are you going to stop being a coward?” 

Zuko froze, arm only halfway into his robe. Sokka almost felt bad for ambushing him with this inevitable conversation but he was tired of sitting in his own bed, watching Zuko walk out the door. He was annoyed that he was going to have to fall asleep alone with the scent of the two of them still lingering in the sheets. He’d told himself he’d let Zuko come to terms on his own time, but he was tired and he was annoyed and not feeling particularly charitable and so here they were. 

Zuko slowly pulled the robe fully on, tying it securely shut. He turned back to Sokka. 

“And what do you presume I’m being a coward about?” 

Sokka scoffed. “You know what.” 

“I don’t.” 

Sokka swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Why do you always leave, Zuko?” 

“Is there a reason for me to stay?” 

“I’ve told you multiple times you can. A few times you even have. But we always go back to this, you leaving like some kind of thief in the night.” 

“I have things to do in the morning. It’s more convenient for me to be in my own bedroom.” 

“Then ask me to come with you.” 

“All we’d do is sleep and then wake up and go our separate ways, it’s not that exciting-” 

“Let’s not waste our time shall we?” Sokka looked him dead in the eyes. “We both know what I’m talking about. How much longer do I have to wait for you to be ready, Zuko? I want more.” 

Zuko looked alarmed, and then distressed, and his right hand began to squeeze his left wrist in pulses. Sokka wanted it all out on the line. “I want us to be together, in a relationship, and I want to be proud, and I want to show you off. We’re not friends who happen to fall into bed with one another anymore. We haven’t been for some time. I love you Zuko and I want to know if you-” 

“Loving you is not in question,” Zuko grated out harshly. 

Not having expected to be cut off so abruptly, Sokka’s brain took a few moments to catch up. 

“You love me?” He asked. 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Of course I love you, don’t be daft. I have loved you in some shape or form since I was seventeen, and I will be in love with you until the day that I die. Loving you has never been the problem.” 

Sokka was lost. He had whiplash. “So what is?” 

Zuko began pacing across the floor, back and forth, back and forth. He kept squeezing his wrist as he talked. 

“If I acknowledge that we- ” here he cut himself off, seeming to need a moment to work out what he wanted to say. “What we have now it’s- it’s fine, it’s easy. But a real relationship means expectations. I’ll expect things from you, and it’ll be too much. I have- my expectations are too high. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

Sokka tried desperately to keep up, unable to see where the thread was going but wanting to say the right thing. “Zuko… I know in the past that it’s been...complicated, with the people who you loved. Your family. I know you went through some things with Iroh too. Whatever it was that happened with Jet.” Zuko winced. “But I’m asking you to give us a chance-” 

“You’re not- you’re not getting it.” 

Sokka didn’t know how he had so thoroughly lost control of the situation. “So help me understand.” 

Zuko regarded him as he continued to pace. “Knowing what the right thing to do has never come easily to me. Everything I learn, I learn the hard way. But you,” Zuko waved his hand in Sokka’s direction carelessly, “you it comes easy to. Some days I feel like I’m drowning in mud and then I look at you and it’s like you’re so filled with light it’s seeping out of you, and people are drawn to you because of it. Everyone is.” 

“Sweetheart,” Sokka said, reaching out for him, “what are you talking about.” 

“Sokka,” Zuko finally stopped pacing. He stood very, very still. And when he finally met Sokka’s eyes he looked tired. “You’re a very easy person to love. There are many people across all the nations, and you are still young, and you will get to meet many of them. There will be good, truly decent people, and they will love you and you may want to love them back, and you will deserve to.” 

Here his hand finally dropped from his wrist. A handprint remained. He spread his arms to the side, like a question, helplessly. 

“You love me and you’re thinking about today, and that’s enough for you. But Sokka, you’re it for me. I know this like I know my own breath. Do you see it? You love me now, but will you still love me tomorrow? Will you still love me the day after that?” 

Zuko shook his head, looked down to his bare feet. His toes curled into the plush rug. When he finally continued, his voice was small. 

“I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you. I’m going to do it for the rest of my life. I’d ask you if you would love me forever and if you can’t… if you give that to me and then you take it away… it’s not a hurt I want to recover from. I don’t want to do that to us.”

Zuko’s eyes flickered back up. “Do you see why it’s unfair of me to give you that kind of power?” 

Sokka could only sit there, wordless, unable to move.

Zuko smiled at him, accepting, and quietly walked out of the room. 

  
  


It’s the last time they’ll talk, really talk, for over a year.

* * *

The ice begins to slowly melt, and the water runs down and wets their feet. Sokka doesn’t pay it any mind. He stands as close as he can. 

Katara moves with power and grace as she sweeps her arms deliberately from side to side, guiding the ice back into its liquid form. Jet stands at the door. Iroh stands opposite Sokka, the herbalist beside him. In her hands is a tiny cup of freshly brewed medicine. 

There is Zuko’s arm. Pale, too pale, his skin looks breakable. There’s steady rivulets running down the side of the table he’s on, the sound of rushing water strange inside. Sokka drops to his knees as soon as he can get close, grasping at him. There is still blood, like time hadn’t passed at all since the throne room. 

Zuko feels dead. He looks dead- 

It’s too late. He’s gone and it was all for nothing-

What’s left of Sokka if there isn’t Zuko? 

  
  


He doesn’t realize he’s not getting enough air again until -

_Breathe._ _Pull it together._

There it is again. In, out. Something in him is expanding, filling with space and air. 

There is no more ice. Here is Zuko’s face, precious, as he cups it in his hand. 

“He’s alive,” Katara says, eyes determined and hands glowing. The healer rushes in. 

“Prop him up,” she snaps, and Sokka is numb as he shifts an arm under Zuko’s shoulders and lifts. Zuko’s head lolls into his arm. The cup is pressed to his lips. The healer tilts it, then presses her hand against his mouth to keep the liquid in. 

Katara cuts away Zuko’s robes. Without them he looks so small and defenseless. In Sokka’s arm he feels like - just a body. An empty body, with nothing inside. Just weight. 

They all keep their eyes trained on the black wound in his stomach, on the inky tendrils that spread out like roots from a tree. 

* * *

Zuko doesn’t know how long he’s been in the not-room with the oil-paint-colors when the shift happens. He hasn’t been much concerned up until this point, because he’s only felt distantly aware of everything. 

But suddenly, the colors shift. They freeze in place, no longer a sluggish galaxy around him. Something cracks open. 

The woman springs up from her corner, in action at last. But this wasn’t what she was waiting for. She screeches, an enraged, terrible sound, and she reaches for Zuko.

But Zuko is no longer there. Zuko is in a bright white light, and it rushes up to meet him-

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sokka is still cupping Zuko’s face when he wakes. It’s only for a moment, his eyes flutter open the tiniest amount and Sokka smiles at him, wobbly, says “Hi baby,” and then they close again. 

It’s a miracle. 

“Sokka,” Katara gasps, “look.” 

He looks down. Black ink spills from the open wound, leaving Zuko’s veins like a painting in reverse. It continues until there is no poison left in his body, until only red, red blood leaks sluggishly out. Katara seals the wound shut with deft hands. 

The color is back in Zuko’s face. His chest rises and falls steadily. On his other side, Uncle lets out a sob to match Sokka’s own. Jet drops down beside them to press his forehead to Zuko’s, eyes closed. “Spirits,” he murmurs. 

Katara throws her arm around Sokka and peppers his cheek with kisses. 

“You did it,” she murmurs, teary eyed, “he’s alive. You saved him.” 

_Told you._

* * *

Later that night when Zuko is settled back in his own bed under Katara’s watchful eye, Uncle finally turns to look Sokka in the eye. He claps a warm, solid hand onto Sokka’s shoulder. Then quietly, mindful of the guards outside the doors, he asks “What was the price?” 

Katara looks up from where she is placing a new towel on Zuko’s forehead. 

“Heavy.” Sokka answers. 

Uncle looks sad, but unsurprised. He draws Sokka into a hug that surrounds him. Sokka sinks into the familiar smell of smoke and tea leaves. “Thank you,” Uncle whispers in his ear. 

“Tell us,” Katara says, and Sokka shows them. 

Uncle stares up at Du. Du is towering, and slick, and generally taking up a less than polite amount of space in the room. 

“Hello,” Uncle says. “Who do I have the pleasure of standing before?” 

“What,” Katara hisses, standing over Zuko, ice daggers drawn in both hands, “have you done with my brother.” 

Then she tries to stab Du in the heart and it all goes a little sideways for a bit. 

After the situation calms, they all sit in chairs by the bed and sip at steaming cups of tea. Katara sips angrily. 

“I think it goes without saying that we need to keep this a secret within as few people as is possible,” Uncle says. Sokka nods, head low.

Uncle strokes his beard. “I have heard tales of the spirit Du. Quite the… voracious appetite. Sokka, you feel no adverse effects of your joining?” 

Sokka shakes his head. “None. Physically I feel perfectly fine.” 

“And mentally?”

“I think… everything is still the same, he’s just… also here now.” 

Uncle’s gaze sharpens. “Impressive. To be compatible with a spirit is no small feat. Is it permanent?” 

“I think it is. We made a deal.” 

Uncle sits back in his seat. 

“I don’t care what deal you made,” Katara snaps, “I want it to release you.” 

“Katara I… I gave him my word.” 

Katara meets his eyes. Then her face crumples, and she throws herself into his arms. 

“Oh Sokka,” she whispers.

“It was worth it,” Sokka says, fierce, looking towards Zuko, “Katara it was worth it.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sokka took a deep breath of Caldera air. I wasn’t so hot this time of year, and he’d missed the sharp, fresh smell of the Palace grounds. 

Aang landed lightly on his feet beside him and he heard twin thumps as Toph and Katara slid off Appa. 

Then, 

“Sparky!” Toph cried, taking off at a straight charge that ended in a loud “oomphf”. 

And there he was. He was beautiful, it had to be said, but that was nothing new. Sokka laughed as Zuko toppled over with a cry as Katara and Aang collided with the hug pile. It was a relief to look at Zuko. It felt like he’d been carrying a weight that had gotten heavier and heavier over time and now, finally, he was able to put it down. 

Aside from a few “hello how are you’s”, a few quick “what’ve you been up to’s” at various gatherings and a handful of casual letters, Sokka had not really spoken to Zuko since their confrontation over a year ago. 

They could never not be close, could never not be in each other’s lives, but. There’d been a change both physical and emotional. 

But now Sokka was here and Zuko was here, and Sokka was ready to fix it. 

He helped Zuko off of the ground, pulling him up and close. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried. 

“Hey,” Sokka said, soft and only for him. 

“Hi,” Zuko answered, and he looked so happy to see them all that Sokka pulled him in for a hug of his own. He wrapped his arms around him and Zuko buried his face in his chest like he’d done so many times before. He still fit perfectly. 

“Missed you,” he said, voice muffled. 

Sokka laid his face against Zuko’s soft hair. There was that feeling again - relief. “Missed you too.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The hallways were quiet, a contrast to the loud, raucous event dinner had been. Now they were all tucked away into their rooms (custom Palace rooms for each of them, available all year round, courtesy of the Fire Lord himself) and Sokka walked on his own. 

He didn’t mind, it gave him the chance to gather himself as he headed to his destination. 

He knocked twice but immediately entered the room, not waiting for a reply. The guards didn’t even blink. 

Zuko looked up in surprise when Sokka shut the door behind himself. 

“Hey,” Sokka said. He stood in the doorway and drank Zuko in. It looked like he was just about to climb into bed, hair loose and already in his sleep robe. 

“Hi.” Zuko looked bewildered. “Sokka, what…?” 

“I’m still in love with you.” Sokka jumped right in. Might as well rip the bandage off. 

Zuko blinked.

“It’s been over a year, and I’ve thought about you every single day. I’ve been with other people, and I know you’ve been with other people.” Here Zuko looked away like Sokka didn’t know how much attention he got, the floozy. Sokka grinned. Spirits, he made Sokka so fond he wanted to throw himself off a cliff. “I loved you the entire time. No matter who I was with. I think it was probably the same for you.” 

Zuko glowered at Sokka, the annoyed little glare that made his nose crinkle at the bridge. Sokka pressed on, undeterred. 

“You know we’re always going to be friends right?” 

“Yeah of course.” Zuko replied automatically. He looked surprised at himself, like the words came out first before his brain caught up. 

“So we’re always going to love each other in some shape or form for as long as we live. That’s a pretty solid fallback. So why shouldn’t we give romance a try? It’ll be even more awesome than before. We’d get to make out in public.” 

“We will never make out in public.” 

“Okay,” Sokka shrugged, laughing. “Zuko, look. I woke up every morning this past year and made the decision to keep loving you. I chose that, and my right to do that is really none of your business.”

Zuko looked taken aback.

“I want to keep making that decision. Doesn’t what I want count too?”

At some point during Sokka’s speech, Zuko had drifted closer. He was now at the corner of the bed closest to Sokka. He gripped the tall bedpost, knuckles white. Sokka took a slow, careful step forward. He had to play this out right. Zuko’s bright, wide eyes stared into his. He was focused on Sokka’s every word, giving them the same serious consideration that he afforded everything.

“Also,” Sokka said softly, “I know that you’ve hurt over everyone you’ve loved before. But as your friend-no-matter-what, I’d never just leave you to hurt. I’d protect you better than that. I just… I think we deserve the chance to be together.” 

He watched as slowly, each finger loosened from its death grip. Zuko took the last, tentative step between them.

Sokka smiled. “So come on, let me sweep you off your feet yeah?” 

He waited. 

  
  


Then Zuko smiled and let him do just that. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sokka steps into the hallway and quietly closes the door to Zuko’s room behind himself. He’d had to have one last look. 

Katara stands with her arms crossed, expression unhappy. “I don’t like that you’re doing this.” 

“I know.” He can’t meet her eyes. 

“He’s going to be devastated when he wakes up and you’re not here.” 

“I know, Katara.” 

She reaches out and pokes him in the shoulder to get him to look up. 

_If she tries to stab us in the heart again I will eat her._

“Absolutely not. We are not eating my sister.” 

Katara glares. “What was that?” 

“Nothing. Just telling Du how we definitely do not want to eat you.” 

Katara huffs and cocks her hip. “I’d like to see him try.” 

Sokka sends her a tiny, tired grin. “Yeah you’d be too bitter and tough to chew.” 

Katara sticks _both_ her middle fingers up at him. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re leaving.” 

Sokka sighs and runs a hand through his hair, adjusts the pack slung over his shoulders. “I just...I have to go. I gotta get some space. To think. I can’t face him right now.” 

“He’s going to cry.” 

“I know.” 

Katara bites her lip. “I hate having to watch Zuko cry.” 

Sokka pulls her hand into his. “I’ll check in with you.” 

“Be careful okay? I don’t like the idea of you skulking around on your own.”

“Katara, pretty sure I’m the biggest, baddest thing out there now.” 

“Yeah,” she smiles, soft, “but you’re still my dumb brother.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Zuko wakes up he aches all over. He stares at the canopy of his bed and feels the rush of his thoughts attempting to fly back together. The attack. Cold. The not-room. The woman, screeching and reaching out for him... 

He tries to move his pinkie finger first and it twitches. All right. He tries all of his fingers, then his whole hand. He lifts one shaky arm and places it over his stomach only to feel a thick layer of bandages wrapped around him. Right. Okay. 

He lets his head fall to the left. Ah, so that’s what the quiet noises are. There’s Katara, legs pulled up on a chair by the window, reading a scroll. There’s Aang standing behind her, braiding her hair. A little ways away Toph lays spread out like a star on the ground, spinning bits of metal in her palm. And there’s -

“Uncle,” Zuko whispers. 

Uncle’s head shoots up from where he had been napping on a low daybed. 

“Zuko,” he chokes out, and then he’s on his feet crossing the room to Zuko’s side in a heartbeat. Uncle cups his face and smiles at him with tears in his eyes and Zuko feels like he’s able to relax for the first time since he’s woken up. 

Katara’s face appears over him next, Aang popping up on her left and Toph squeezing in under their arms. 

“Zuko!” They chorus, smiles wide and relieved. 

Katara helps him up and he leans against Uncle, who brings a cup of cool water to his lips. He tilts carefully, only giving Zuko one small sip at a time. It makes him think of a different time, a different place, waking up with Uncle by his side. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Aang asks, eyes wide and eager, fingers in a peace sign. 

“Three?” 

“Aw man!” Aang cries, “You remembered my trick!” He brings out one more finger from behind his back. 

“That’s a terrible way to check if his brains are fried.” Toph crosses her arms. “Quick Zuko, tell us the best pick up line you’ve ever heard, don’t think too hard just say it.” 

“Uh.” Zuko says. 

“Oh thank goodness,” Toph sighs, “he’s still an idiot.” She sticks her thumb up. “Nice.” 

Uncle roars with laughter and Zuko can feel it in the way his body rumbles against him. Katara snorts as she reaches out to gently brush Zuko’s hair back from his face. 

“Where’s Sokka?” Zuko asks. 

The room gets quiet. Katara hesitates, but continues stroking his hair. “He’s not here.” 

Zuko frowns. “Is he...in the bathroom?” 

“No Zuko, he’s not in the Palace. He’s okay, he’s fine, but he’s not here.” 

“I don’t understand. Can someone go get him?” 

Katara must have known how much her next words are going to hurt, so he’s all the more impressed and grateful when she looks him right in the eyes when she says, “Sokka saved your life. But he’s dealing with some stuff, and he wants to be alone right now. He’s not coming.” 

That’s...that’s not right. That doesn’t sound right. That’s not…

Uncle pulls him into an embrace. He feels Aang hug him from the other side. 

“Oh,” Katara says, sniffling, “you can cry if you want to Zuko, but you’ll make me cry too.” 

Oh, he guesses those are tears on his face. 

“Sokka doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko chokes out. 

Katara swipes at her eyes. “He’s just...he’s….” 

“He’s being dumb,” Toph cuts in. “He’s just being dumb. It’s okay. It’s been a while since he’s had a lapse in intelligence, he’s overdue for one. Let him have it.” 

Everything aches, but Zuko still laughs a little, breath hitching. “He is, he’s so smart but so, so dumb.” 

“He’ll be back,” Aang promises. 

“When?” 

Uncle gently wipes under Zuko’s eyes for him. 

“Just remember he saved you,” Uncle says, “he saved you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter was a STRUGGLE for me, word by painstaking word. It took me months of chipping away and slogging through, so if you felt anything please let me know! I am throwing it out into the ether and hoping for an answer. Or maybe connecting two tin cans with a string and standing at one end and throwing the other end into the street. 
> 
> I thought I could get it all out in 2 chapters, which I would have preferred, but I guess suffering is just what's in the cards for me. 
> 
> If you have questions or want to chat find me on tumblr at [arejour](https://arejour.tumblr.com/)!


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